Overload
by LittleMewLugia
Summary: Starscream manages to get some honest work in, after all, he has to pay for the extra aircraft fuel he and his trine need somehow, so why not dance in a strip joint? However, an unexpected visitor leads to complete chaos. Oneshot.


Overload

Summary: Starscream manages to get some honest work in, after all, he has to pay for the extra aircraft fuel he and his trine need somehow, so why not dance in a strip joint? However, an unexpected visitor leads to complete chaos.

Rating: M

Continuity: G1

Disclaimer. None of the characters except the club owner and the unnamed humans are mine. Transformers belongs to Takara and Hasbro, not I.

A/N: this is my first ever G1 story, so please be gentle with me. Although I do want to know anywhere I have gone wrong, so ConCrit is appreciated. This is a requestfic for DitzyMusicLover.

"Won't you help me cure this overload?" (line from the Dirty Dancing song "Overload.")

Overload.

"You're doing _what?"_ asked Thundercracker in astonishment, as Skywarp tried to stifle a laugh without success. Starscream glowered at him, but Skywarp didn't seem to notice.

"Look, I bumped into this human while checking something in town out, and we got talking. I was going to silence him by squishing him, but he told me he owns this chain of clubs, I believe the humans call them 'strip joints,'" Starscream explained. "He said not all the people there are after the same sort of stimulation, and invited me to work there for less than a joor a night, plus I'd get some tips that people can put in a box to pay for my fuel. Most are likely to see me as some sort of remote controlled drone. Well, it pays well, where do you thing the fuel I gave you yesterday came from? My wages, that's where!" he said.

"But what do you do there? Take off your armour or something?" Skywarp asked. Starscream snorted.

"Of course not! My – employer – said some humans find us Cybertronians 'hot' which I believe is human slang for interfaceable. If course, size and physiological differences make that almost physically impossible, plus the idea of trying it is rather repugnant, I believe their sexual practices include lots of revolting secretions." He ignored the gagging noses Skywarp made, and continued speaking. "However, he has me dancing, holding onto a pole for balance, while stroking myself and moving my hips and stretching my limbs in a suggestive manner, and there are those humans who will find that in itself arousing, and they put money in a box which is labelled as the robot's fuel fund. Of course, most think I'm a drone and it's fascinating if revolting to see how some of the humans deal with their charge. Luckily there is a fence around my feet and I'm on a platform, so none can get close enough to touch me."

"The venue is tall enough for you to do this?" asked Thundercracker. Starscream nodded.

"The central section is, the club was designed with several balcony-style levels around the side and a high roof in the middle. I think sometimes he has collapsible staging put in there with tiers of femme humans stripping, so when that's not erected, that is where I do my dancing." He explained. "Why, Thundercracker, do you fancy doing a turn there yourself?" he leered. The blue Seeker shuddered.

"Not for humans." He said. "You can keep it, Starscream, you're the exhibitionist, not I. But I thought I should warn you: if we've noticed your evening absences, it won't be long before Megatron does, and he might take a dim view of fraternising and putting yourself on display for the fleshling inhabitants of this world."

Starscream nodded in reply. "I'll keep that in mind, but deal with it if and when it happens. I think that he has enough on his mind with the Autobots to worry about what I'm doing in my spare time. Now, I'm off to work. Cover for me if anything happens, and I'll cut you in for a share of the fuel each week."

The two agreed, for extra fuel over and above the meagre allowance Megatron gave them meant more fun-flights, and an opportunity like that was not one to be passed up. Satisfied, Starscream set off, confident that Megatron would take some time to find out, if he found out at all, and would see the wisdom of his actions.

What Starscream was unaware of was that their quarters were bugged, and Megatron had heard the entire conversation – and was intrigued.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

As Starscream flew to his new work for that night, his thoughts inevitably returned to Megatron.

In spite of all his plotting against Megatron, the Seeker secretly admired his smooth silver frame. Starscream partly acted up because it seemed the only way to get attention – any attention – from the silver overlord, even if the attention took the form of a backhanded slap that sent him sprawling to the ground. How he fantasized at times about feeling the hands of Megatron on his own smooth frame, teasing his shoulder-vents and chest and wings, how he groaned silently in desire as he imagined his leader's hands sliding over his fuselage. He groaned then: although Megatron was a groundling whose alt form was a hand gun, Starscream found him as sexy as all Pit: not that he would ever admit that to his leader's face!

As he landed and snuck in the back entrance as he had for the last week, he tried to shrug the thoughts off. He would dance for the humans, as he had told his wing brothers, but what he hadn't told them is that he would imagine that he was dancing for Megatron.

He took his usual thirty minutes after getting in to wax his chassis and limbs to a beautiful shine, and then, when he got his cue, he stepped out and over to the platform, and climbed on, clinging to the pole and striking a pose.

As the music started up, Starscream leaned his body away from the pole, but curled one leg about it, holding the pole with both hands. As the beat started, he began to dance and gyrate, unaware that that night, he had been followed.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Laserbeak took note of where Starscream had landed and gone in, and once the seeker had gone inside, circled around and carefully dropped the silver gun clasped in his talons in an obscured location, then rose back up and flew off the way he had come.

Megatron transformed, scanned the area for activity and sneaked around the building, keeping to the shadows and moving surprisingly stealthily for a mech of his substantial size. Slowly circling the building, he eventually found a window of a suitable size and at the correct angle so he could watch to see Starscream in his side line of work.

His vents involuntarily seized as he caught his first sight of the waxed, gleaming Seeker. Although he would never admit it, Megatron enjoyed looking at the sleek frames of his Seeker-trine underlings, and in fact it was for the joy of devouring their forms with his optics when he was not being watched that he kept Starscream alive and around at all, for such treachery from any other would have been punished with painful and permanent offlining long ago.

He watched, transfixed, as one of Starscream's blue hands glided slowly and sensuously up one flexed leg, the tips of the digits sliding up his thigh. Starscream's other arm was wrapped around a chrome-coloured pole, the hand of that arm holding the pole as his optics dimmed and he tipped his head back between his shoulder vents, exposing a tantalising bundle of neck cables that Megatron immediately visualised running his glossa up.

He could see the vents in Starscream's chest turning, as flickering shadows in the square structures. The hand not holding the pole was moving again, sliding onto that pale off-white waist, then down over his hip plating to slide sensuously down the slick curve of his aft. The seeker's mouth opened slightly in a silent sigh, the sight making Megatron's optics glow as he felt his Spark flicker and his heat begin to build. The charge travelled down his sensory cables, making his armour first tingle and then feel like it was gently glowing. He let out his own silent moan, keeping his optics glued to the Seeker, who was now rocking back and forth on his thrusters and pulling himself up against the pole. With a growl of desire, Megatron moved his hand to his own waist, and tried to imagine that it was Starscream's hand rather than his own.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Starscream was familiar with the song that came on next, the one that started with the word 'Overload' being sung in a low throaty voice, for he privately had claimed it as his song. Humans didn't understand about Cybertronian overloads, so the words, speaking about 'curing' an overload didn't quite fit: Cybertronian sex was all about getting and reaching overloads, there was no way to 'cure' them, they were the cure for being charged! It always got him charged though if he mainly tuned out the main words and inserted his own to make the song make sense to him.

He embraced the pole, pressing it between both bent knees, pressed his chest against it and ran his glossa up the chromed surface teasingly. He rocked his hips and brought one hand up to his chest, trailing it lightly over his vents and dipping into his own shoulder–vent, before moving to the vent's outside edge and then lightly stroking along his own wing expanse and up to the tips as he leaned forwards to lick the tips of the digits gripping the pole, his own charge growing. He could see from his optic edges, the humans were going wild and relieving the charge his sinuous movements were inspiring in them in their usual revolting fashion.

He could only hope his wing-brothers could help him reach overload tonight, he reflected, completely unaware that his actions were driving a certain silver Decepticon crazy with desire.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Megatron felt his heat rise as he watched his second in command – HIS Seeker Trine-head, slaggit – dance for the pathetic fleshies around him. He growled as the flier half-turned, then bent over backwards almost double to a tune he could not hear, flexing one leg up and arching that glorious neck of his back again. The moving coloured lights ran over the waxed frame in a most tantalising manner as the Seeker straightened back up, reaching around to touch his cockpit lightly, stroking it and lightly drumming on it. Megatron was mesmerised by the blue hand moving over the smoked canopy as the Seeker rocked and ground his hips, swinging round the pole, wrapping his legs about it as he danced to the music and moved to the beat of whatever song was on.

Megatron could see that the Seeker himself was getting charged by his own caresses, and Megatron watched him jealously as he gasped and his vents sped, wanting those blue hands to be touching his own silver armour, slaggit, wanting it to be _his_ hands on Starscream's fuselage and thighs, wanting to run his glossa up and amongst those gorgeous neck-cables, for _his_ hands to be the ones driving Starscream to the edge of desire.

Megatron could stand the sight no more. He growled with his charge, and decided that what he wanted, he would get.

With a roar of engines and vocal processor, he drew back one hand into a fist, and punched the wall of the club with considerable force.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

It was the thud and the caving in of the wall that first drew Starscream's attention and he froze, wondering what could be happening. As the wall caved in, revealing a menacing shadow, the humans gathered about began to panic. They headed for the exit, several falling and being trampled by their own kind as they fought to escape the dark shape with blazing red pits for eyes that was stood outside the building.

It advanced and that was when Starscream recognised the figure, He opened his mouth to give an excuse, an explanation, but had no time to utter a single word before Megatron was upon him, derma hungrily latching onto his own, hands roaming over his body.

Starscream was speechless at this uncharacteristic behaviour, but as Megatron's hands touched his wings, stroked his sides, pulled at his arms and grabbed at his plating, instinct took over and knocked the shock, along with logic, down the nearest wormhole.

His own hands reached out, expertly seeking the places he KNEW had to be sensitive on his Leader's chassis…his arm cannon and the part of his cannon that showed over his shoulder. His derma were powerless against his Leaders assault, but he twined his glossa eagerly with Megatron's after a small, token resistance.

Megatron's hands unexpectedly left Starscream's side and wing, grasping at Starscream's wrists, wrenching them fiercely and almost painfully down behind his back: off his own canopy and off the pole. Starscream's legs tried to move to counter for the loss of the pole's support, but Megatron's legs were now pressing the Seeker's knees between his own, aborting the correction.

They both toppled, Megatron on top, the force he exerted on Starscream's wrists stopping him correcting his fall, and for a moment he panicked, but then they were on the floor, the jolt of impact absorbed mainly by Megatron's arms, and then his hands were released as Megatron aggressively explored the Seeker's chassis with his own hands, stroking and tugging at seams, tweaking and squeezing at vents and sensitive wing-tips, and some of it was edged with pain, but the cries Starscream uttered were not of protest but of pleading, begging for more, even as his Leader moved to comply for his own selfish reasons.

Megatron detached his derma from Starscream's, as he moved his mouth opposite Starscream's audio.

"You can dance for others, Starscream, but you are mine and always will be, and you will drop whatever you are doing and whoever you are with when I demand. You are, and always have been, and always will be, mine, Seeker, remember that. _Mine!"_

Part of Starscream, the part that always seemed to land him in trouble, wanted to resist, to refuse, to tell him that nobody owned him but his vocal processor stalled at that moment, so he resisted with his body, squirming against Megatron's weight sprawled atop him. Megatron's response was to keep feeling along the expanse of Starscream's wings, placing one splay-fingered hand on each wing, resting his entire weight on them, and this time it was the pain of the pressure on his wings that caused Starscream to cry out.

"Mine." Megatron repeated softly, then shifted his weight to redistribute the weight on Starscream's chassis once he was certain his message had been understood, and he put his glossa against those tense neck cables, kissing and licking up them, then sliding his glossa between them, using it to push against a cable here, curl around and tug at another there.

There was no use his denying it any more, even though his vocaliser seemed to work again, Starscream realised, as the actions of Megatron's clever glossa made him keen and squirm against him. Even if nothing remotely like this happened again, he _was_ Megatron's, to be toyed with, deployed in battle, or treated like this. Megatron wasn't a jealous lover no, but a jealous leader, and when he took on followers, he _expected_ to own them _all_, own each of them more completely than any lover or debt-owed person.

Starscream's hands rose to tug back at his Leader.

"Yours." he whined back, bucking under the silver mech, even as Megatron moved his hands down in acknowledgement, gently sliding his hand seductively up and down Starscream's canopy glass, something that made Starscream lose all coherence of thoughts and vocaliser, reducing his response to squirming and mewling under Megatron's experienced touch.

Megatron stopped touching, stopped stroking, and Starscream's mewls changed from pleasured to disappointed in a few astroseconds. Megatron looked down, one set of red optics locking with the other.

"If you want me to touch you, want me to interface properly with you, you have to earn it, Seeker." Megatron said in a low voice. There was nobody else around to hear: the humans had long since fled. Megatron continued to speak.

"If you want what I can give, I want you to say so. Can you do that, Seeker? I want you to beg for it. Beg me to give you release, Seeker, admit that you belong to me, or I will abandon you, right here, and right now."

Of course, now that he had Starscream in this position, needy and quite obviously wanting him, willing to give what he had only looked at before, Megatron had no intention of following through with his threat no matter what Starscream did. However, he was guessing that Starscream was more than ready to obey, because he could feel the Seeker's charge, higher than his own, thrumming through his systems, and Starscream, unlike Soundwave, could not read minds.

Indeed, the look that flickered across Starscream's faceplates was fearful. He raised trembling hands to trace digit tips along Megatron's back and shoulder and over the gun barrel parts.

"P-please, t-touch me, Megatron, take me to overload, as many overloads as you like. Do what you want to me, take me, I am y-yours, now and forever, but p-please release me, d-don't abandon me, _please!"_

The last word was almost a scream, and Megatron was swift to sweep the form of the shaking Seeker into his arms.

"Good, Starscream, obedient little Seeker, you have pleased me, and obedience reaps its own rewards just as disobedience and treachery reaps its own punishments." pressing his derma once again against Starscream's, his hands moving not to the top of his canopy, but to the sides, where Starscream's chest catches were cunningly hidden.

Starscream felt the touches, realised what this entailed as Megatron released his own catches and screeched with desire, shaking, trying to press himself closer to his leader, although he was tightly pressed against Megatron already. As his canopy divided and spread, Megatron's own chest plates slid apart. Starscream felt the heat of Megatron's spark just for an instant before the two touched, and the contact triggered Starscream's incipient overload, which pushed Megatron over the edge too. Both vocalisers screamed, the high-pitched and the lower, in a counterpoint to each other, as two bodies shook as their Sparks briefly seemed as one.

As they both came online, they both registered the sirens of the human law enforcement team known as the 'police, and that the sound was getting nearer.

"Well, I think I've lost my job." remarked Starscream as he surveyed the remains of the strip joint. He found that he really didn't care. He reached down however to retrieve the "Robot fuel" box, he may as well get _something_ out of that night as his wages were unlikely to be forthcoming. He straightened, putting the box in subspace as he saw Megatron getting ready to transform.

"Let's get out of here." Megatron said, and transformed into his easy-to-carry weapon mode. Starscream caught him and smiled, engaging his thrusters and shooting into the air, heading for the Decepticon base.


End file.
